Martin and Louisa - a Reckoning
by nature of things
Summary: The original story had two parts but, when I rewrote it, I made it into one. I added more of the village and some scenes that help explain how they got back together. Hope you don't find it too repetitive.
1. Chapter 1

As usual, Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures. I have no association with them, just enjoy playing with the characters. I know the show had to keep the will they/won't they going, but I'm glad it's over and that they're happy together. I just shortened the process. When I watch an episode, sometimes I wonder "what if" and the story just comes. Hope our two lovebirds don't sound too much like teenagers. This story was originally published in two parts but I rewrote parts of it, adding more of the village to it. Hope you don't mind a repeat. Enjoy!

Doc and Louisa - a Reckoning Part one

Louisa's return to Port Wenn hadn't gone as she had expected, no, hoped it would. She showed up at Martin's door, suitcase in hand, hoping that he would be happy to see her and to at least be invited in for a cup of tea. Instead, in order, he said, 'Louisa, you're back', 'You're pregnant' and 'You know it's too late for an abortion'. She was so hurt by that last remark that she immediately lied and said that she just dropped by to let him know before the village found out. Then she saw a thin, attractive woman about Martin's age with improbable red hair sitting in the kitchen. She couldn't get away fast enough! She had been silly to hope! Of course, he followed her to the terrace and offered marriage but just because of the baby. "No, I don't want to get married. I'll be fine on my own. Not your problem." If he had cared at all, he would have excused himself from his company and invited her in and not said that hurtful thing. He didn't even ask where she was staying! She made her way to The Crab and Lobster to pay rent that she could ill afford. Her house was rented out with an unbreakable lease so she had no choice. Unfortunately, the income from the rent went to pay her mortgage so no joy there.

During the following weeks, they continued to snipe at each other. He tried to make decisions for her and she pushed him away, convincing herself that it was for the best – hard hearted, bossy arse! He was a stick of rock alright! Hard as stone thru and thru! Didn't he realize that she _had_ to work? He insisted that it only be three days a week and questioned every move and decision that she made. When the position of Head Teacher became available due to the illness of the person who held it when she came back, he tried to convince the board that, because she was pregnant, she was unable to resume the post! That caused a terrible row and, to make it worse, Edith was there to witness it. He was unbearable! Insufferable! That didn't stop her from having erotic dreams about him though. She put a hormonal pregnancy as the reason. They were very detailed!

The situation was bad for him as well. He had to endure criticism from Aunty Joan which he felt to be very unjustified. He repeatedly told her that Louisa didn't want him involved in any way! She invariably said, "Don't be ridiculous! You're the father! You have responsibilities!" That certainly didn't make it any easier. And Pauline made her little comments, too. "Just because she's strong don't mean she don't need your help." Yes, he was the father and yes, it was exciting. But also terrifying. He didn't know anything about babies! What if he turned out to be like his father?

During her absence, he had determined to leave Port Wenn and return to surgery in London. The place was just unbearable without Louisa and he never admitted to himself that, just maybe, his desire to leave this little back water village and return to London was because she was there. Chris was encouraging but cautious. His phobia. It had to be cured. His only solace was Edith. They met by accident when he was at the hospital seeing a patient and she showed up later that week at the surgery. They had known each other years ago in med school and knew exactly how to deal with each other. He was rude, she was ruder. Both were brilliant doctors but in different fields. Neither of them suffered fools. She told him his breath was metallic, he accepted her statement without rancor and brushed his teeth. They had some differences – she was ambitious to a fault and would use anyone or anything to get ahead. And she was mercenary. He didn't like or dislike her, just accepted her and her company, grateful for her help and the distraction she provided where, for short periods of time, he wasn't thinking and worrying about Louisa. He was trying to 'cure' his phobia with the help of a therapist that she recommended. It was grueling and he threw up countless times. But he kept pushing – meditation and breathing exercises among other things - and it was beginning to pay off. He could actually handle the bag of blood that she gave him without nausea and sweating. He helped her write and edit her papers – something he had always enjoyed doing. They were working on the speech she was to make at the OBGYN symposium when Louisa showed up at his door. Well, she made it plain that she didn't want him around so London it is!

Joan took Louisa to the hospital in Truro to register as a patient. Martin was there on the plat where they met and immediately put Louisa's back up by criticizing her for eating a few Jelly Babies.

"I just fancied some." She said defensively.

"You know that the weight you gain during the pregnancy will be harder to shift because of your age. You shouldn't have wasted calories and excess sugar." He said helpfully – he thought. To her, he was criticizing her again and was that a crack about her age? She glared at him and snapped, "Thank you, Mar-tin. I'm aware that pregnant women should watch their weight. Especially _older_ women!"

Why was she angry with him? No matter what he said or how helpful he tried to be, it made her angry. Probably hormones. Joan pulled up and he, thinking that she wanted him for some reason, told her to wait just a minute.

"No, it's Louisa I've come for. Are you ready to leave? Well, come on then." She called.

Louisa walked toward the truck and Martin asked where they were going.

"Joan's taking me to Truro to register at the hospital." Louisa answered him without stopping.

He didn't know whether he felt guilty or responsible, he just knew that they should do this together and asked hesitantly, "Shouldn't I be the one taking you?"

Once again, she pushed him away. "No thanks. I'm fine." He looked so forlorn standing there! When they arrived at the hospital, she waited for what seemed like ages before being shown into a room. The nurse asked all the normal questions and then asked if her husband would be attending any of the appointments. "No, I'm not married." She replied. Will he cooperate in a study? Louisa didn't see the woman enter the room as she answered, "Why? And what study?"

The woman turned out to be the red head. She answered that it was a study of geriatric patients who were having babies. She added with certainty "And no, he won't cooperate." And left the room. Just how well did they know each other anyway? Did that smirk never leave her face?

Joan helped her find a small place to rent very close to the school. It was dreadfully dirty and smelly. Between the two of them, it was finally clean and sparsely furnished with odd pieces on loan from Joan. Al gave her a good price to do some needed repairs.

They had been hard at work since mid-morning with minimal breaks. If finally caught up with her when she went to get the last chair from Joan's truck. She staggered back into the house feeling nauseated and dizzy and quickly sat down, trying to hold her head between her knees. That certainly wasn't an easy thing to do! Joan panicked and, against Louisa's wishes, called Martin. Afraid that she was seriously hurt, he flew through the village, arriving breathless to find Louisa calmly sitting on the sofa. Pulse regular, blood pressure regular, complexion normal. Just why was he called? "This is looking less and less like an emergency!"

Louisa said airily, "Well, I did ask Joan not to call. I certainly wouldn't want to bother you."

He gave a disgusted grunt and Joan said, "I was frightened. She got dizzy and almost fainted. It's surely no trouble for you to come check on her."

Louisa rebelled at that. "I _didn't_ almost faint. I just felt dizzy. That's all."

That did it. He said furiously, "It was very inconvenient! I can't believe that you're stupid enough to move furniture. You're heavily pregnant Louisa! When will you…"

Now Louisa got angry and interrupted him, "I don't need you to tell me that I'm pregnant Mar-tin! Pregnant but not helpless! And certainly not stupid! I didn't want Joan to call you because I knew just how you'd act! Angry, critical and, and, and _pompous_!"

He was getting red in the face so Joan tried to mediate, "I'm sorry that I bothered you but I thought she needed help."

"Well she won't get it from me!" he bellowed.

"Marty! For heaven's sake!" cried Joan.

"She has repeatedly told me that I'm to have no involvement with her pregnancy or the child. And believe me, she won't have to tell me again!" And he stomped out, slamming the door behind him.

He raged all the way up Roscarrock Hill and into the surgery. Pauline took one look at his face, closed the surgery and left as quickly as she could, shaking her head at their silly behavior.

He couldn't believe how stupid she was. And how reckless. Unbidden, the next thought was why wouldn't she let him…let him what? That was a question he wasn't ready to ask. He tried to make tea but forgot to heat the water. It was horribly weak and stone cold. He burned his fish and generally made a mess in the kitchen. Did she have any food in the house? She needed proper nutrition. He knew what she normally prepared for herself. A greasy fry up or those god-awful beans on toast. At best, she boiled an egg. He should call Aunty Joan and ask her. No! He wasn't ready for another lecture. Besides, she wouldn't leave Louisa wanting for anything. He finally gave up. He couldn't eat anything anyway. It stuck in his throat. A shower and bed with the latest lancet. That would calm him down. The image of Louisa fainting stayed with him no matter what he did. He had a long night.

When he slammed the door, Louisa let go. She was trembling with rage and threw a can of furniture polish across the room. How dare he? She hated the word stupid and he had dared to call her that! She was done with him and his interfering, rude and obnoxious behavior.

Joan knew better than to apologize for Martin. Been there, done that and it never worked. She used the need for groceries to get out of Louisa's way. She needed to rage in private. When she returned, Louisa was still fuming, pacing up and down the small room, slamming cabinet doors, scrubbing the small kitchen table as it she was trying to remove the paint, scowling with traces of tears on her cheeks but not saying anything. She didn't trust herself to say what was on her mind about Joan's beloved nephew. Her remarks certainly wouldn't be pretty! Joan quietly prepared baked chicken breast, sprouts, broccoli and a pot of tea. "Your supper's ready. If you need me for anything, anything at all, please call me. Ok?"

Louisa was ashamed of her churlishness. Joan deserved all the gratitude she could muster. Damn Martin! She embraced Joan, saying, "Thank you for all your help today. And loaning me all this furniture! I couldn't have done it without you. Are you sure you won't eat with me?"

"No thank you, I've work to do at the farm and don't be silly! You don't owe me thanks! Now eat your supper and have an early night. You must be exhausted. Good night Louisa." They embraced again and she left. Louisa tried to force the food down but just couldn't manage it. She had a nutritious dinner of hot tea. And a long night.

A week later, they had an incident on the beach with Mr. Strange and the children. He was the Head Teacher and was convinced that Louisa wanted his job. He resented her presence, easy relationship with the children and other teachers and watched her constantly. She described his behavior as weird. He had gone to Martin for a checkup that included a urine sample. Martin checked it and quickly realized that he had a serious condition that could bring on episodes of psychotic behavior and should receive immediate treatment.

No one could find Mr. Strange or the children that he took on an unannounced and unscheduled field trip. Louisa came back from an appointment in Truro and, by questioning different people in the village, found them at Roscarrock Cove. He was yelling bizarre and confusing orders like telling the children to take off their shoes and clean the rocks. She called Martin – the first person she always thought of when there was any kind of trouble – and, as always, he rushed to help her. They were both still angry with each other so the meeting was definitely awkward. He looked at her eagerly, assessing her condition. She looked well, not harmed, just concerned for the children. They were alright, just bewildered by the erratic behavior of the Head Teacher.

Louisa was very relieved to see him. Mr. Strange was acting so _weird_. She was kneeling in the sand comforting one of the children and he just pushed her over, Martin exploded with rage and concern and helped her up, running his hands over her arms and belly. Was she ok? No twinges or unusual pain? "How dare you touch her!"

Mr. Strange just let out an insane laugh and ran towards the water.

"Martin, Mr. Strange is running toward the water. Stop him!"

"Stop him? I'd like to let him drown!" Instead, he raced after the deranged man, splashing through the cold water, until he caught him. "Mr. Strange! You're suffering from a psychotic episode. Stop this and come back to shore with me. Come on you idiot!" And they both went under. Martin was trying to pull him back to shore, Mr. Strange laughing and yelling as he resisted. They heard the siren and Joe jumped out of the vehicle, immediately pulled off his equipment belt and ran to help drag the man back to safety.

Needless to say, Martin was soaking wet with cold salt water, concerned about and irritable with Mr. Strange and beyond worried about Louisa.

"Are you sure you're alright? No pain or discomfort?" He asked as she was trying reassure the children, get them to put their shoes back on and return to the school. Yes, she was grateful but, based on his behavior of the last few weeks, expected him to say something horrible so she pushed him away again. "Yes, I'm ok for the tenth time! You've already asked me that. Ok children, let's go back to school." And she turned away from him, then turned back to say with the same courtesy that she would give a grocery clerk, "And thank you for your assistance."

And that's the thanks he got! She could've been seriously injured! Or the baby! Well, he knew better than to expect anything else from her! And once again, he raged all the way up Roscarrock Hill.

As was his habit, every time he left the surgery and walked through the village or had reason to stand on the terrace, he looked for her, hoping to catch a glimpse. She did the same thing, looking for him at every turn. Small consolation when they did see each other! They both pointedly ignored the other.

Martin and Edith continued to work on her speech and she ate with him a few times. He agreed to attend the symposium and to let her reserve his room at the hotel. He made daily and discernable progress curing his phobia. Now he could slice open fresh beef liver and swirl the blood with his fingers. She brought more bags of blood and he cut them open, again dipping his fingers into the bowl and again, with no ill effects whatsoever. "Well done, Ellingham!"

The gaggle of silly village girls, who seemed to have nothing better to do with their time than to wander about the village making senseless and often cruel remarks to everyone they met, made Louisa's life hell. They were obsessed with Martin's private life and spent many evenings sitting on the wall outside the surgery watching every move that he made. They especially waited for that red headed woman to show up and counted every minute that she was there. They would way lay Louisa some time during the next day and giggling, would called to her, "Hey, Louiser! That redhead was with the Doc again last night. Whoo-o-o-o! Bet he used a condom this time!"

Louisa's only defense was to walk on with a wave and smile. She clamped down on her imagination and hurt. This was her life now, get on with it.

It was time for her to have another scan. Joan had already done so much that she just couldn't ask her to take her to the hospital again so rode the bus. It was clean and comfortable – for most people anyway. She had gone to the loo just before she left but was desperate to go again. Oh the joys of being pregnant!

She was shown into an examination room and the nurse pushed up her blouse and down the top of her pants. And there was her belly on glorious display, navel poking out like a big pimple! A few minutes into the scan with Louisa craning her neck to see the screen, the nurse stopped abruptly and said, "The doctor will be here shortly." And hurried out. That was alarming. Louisa reached for the cart with the scanner on it trying to pull it close enough so that she could see the picture. And her upper body slid off the table. She was hanging there, totally helpless and embarrassed when the redhead walked in.

"Oh my. Let's get you situated. We haven't been introduced. I'm Dr. Edith Montgomery. And you're Louisa Glasson from Port Wenn."

She turned to the screen and a few seconds later said, "Yes. It's SGA, Small for Gestational Age. A normal fetus at this stage of a pregnancy would be approximately thirty-four centimeters. Not even close. Have you made a mistake? No, I don't mean by getting pregnant. When was the last time you had sex, and this should be an easy question to answer, with Elling…Dr. Ellingham?"

"Is there something wrong with the baby? Can you see something wrong?" Louisa asked frantically.

"Just answer my question. You may have gotten the date wrong. If you can't be exact, be as accurate as possible. So, when was the last time you had sex with Dr. Ellingham?" There was just a hint of amused scorn in Edith's smile as she repeated the question.

A memory flashed into Louisa's mind. Unbelievable tenderness and passion every time they made love. Sweet words and promises with that velvet voice of his whispering "Oh Louisa!". She knew exactly when the last time was but couldn't bring herself to tell the woman who might be her replacement. The memories were just too precious even if Edith had experienced the same things. "I'm not sure of the exact date. Sometime in the last two weeks of October."

"Oh dear, memorable then. Well we'll work with what we have. We'll schedule you for more tests. The nurse will set them up and explain the procedures to you." And she left taking that superior smile with her.

The nurse frowned at her retreating back, clearly disapproving of such a condescending and dismissive manner. But, she was more than courteous and helpful to the nervous mother-to-be. "Here are pamphlets detailing each procedure. They're very thorough but if you have any questions, just call Dr. Montgomery."

Shaken and terrified for her baby, Louisa knew that it was far down on her list of possibilities. She would talk to the doctors in Wadebridge instead. The nurse helped her off the table and waited till she wiped the gel off her stomach and adjusted her clothes. She heard Edith talking to someone in the hall. "Robert! I saw Ellingham two nights ago and he's ready to come back to London. Very ready I would say."

The man named Robert replied, "If he does, that would be a great thing for the surgical department at Imperial. We have to be sure about his phobia first. How would you assess his progress?

"He's advancing with remarkable progress. You know Ellingham when he sets his mind to something. You can rest easy about it." She answered with assurance.

"Not to be nosy, but weren't you two engaged at one time?" He asked.

She answered in the same tone that anyone would use talking about the weather. "Yes, we were until our careers got in the way. That shouldn't be a problem now. He's escorting me to the symposium this week-end you know. We plan on staying overnight together." And they moved out of earshot.

That did it! The perfect end to a perfectly dreadful day.

By the time the bus dropped her off, she was desperate to wee, her back hurt, her ankles were swollen and aching and she had the mother of all headaches. She was slowly making her way home after stopping at the public convenience when Al saw her. "God! She looks awful! Wonder if the Doc knows?" He continued to watch to make sure she made it home then loped up the hill to the surgery. He paced nervously, waiting for the Doc to come out. Pauline assured him that he could jump line. Martin came out escorting a patient and saying, as usual, "Next patient."

Al said, "Doc, I need to see you for just a minute. It's real important."

Al was one of the few villagers that Martin actually liked and respected. "Come through." He sat behind his desk, hands folded, waiting for Al to speak.

Al looked closely at the Doc for the first time in weeks and thought he looked just as bad as Louisa. But his concern was for her. "Doc, I just saw Louiser comin' back from her scan and she looks real rough."

Sweat breaking out in his armpits and on his forehead, he asked, "What scan and what do you mean by rough? Please be specific."

Al looked at him in disbelief. "Her scan! In the hospital in Truro! Didn't you know? Damn Doc! I know more about your baby than you do. How specific do you want me to be? You got to check on her – _now_!" And for the first time in their acquaintance he said with contempt, "You tosser!" And he showed the Doc that he wasn't the only man who could slam a door.

Martin immediately grabbed his bag, rushed past Pauline saying, "Reschedule the rest of my appointments and close the surgery." And he was gone, actually passing Al halfway down the hill.

He ran through the village again, almost getting hit by a car, knocking over people and shouting "Get out of my way!" the whole time.

He arrived at her house in record time, breathless and holding a stitch in his side. He could see her through the window sitting on the couch holding her head in her hands, shoulders slumped and, somehow, defeated looking. He threw the door open and entered, never even thinking of knocking. "Al said you were ill. Let me examine you." He ranted while he was checking her vitals. "Pulse racing, blood pressure raised, no color. What imbecilic thing have you done now? Oh yes, you went for a scan today. You probably rode that wretched bus instead of just asking me to take you. That would be too easy, wouldn't it? Over seven months pregnant and riding the bus! What did they say?"

While he fussed, he got a cold cloth and pressed it against her forehead, removed her tight shoes, gently laid her back and put her feet up on the sofa.

For the first time since he had known her, she didn't snap back at him.

"Louisa, tell me what's wrong. I can help you and the baby. For god's sake, answer me!"

Sighing, she started to sit up but he pushed her back down. "No, stay still. You need to rest. You can talk lying down."

"Do you know who my doctor is? No? Well it's your friend, Edith. She was… less than pleasant. Less than helpful. So, to make it less stressful for me, I'm going to register at Wadebridge tomorrow and let the County midwife deliver him when it's time. And she can buggar off."

He was stunned. "Wadebridge? Are you mad? I'm not surprised that Edith is your doctor. They give her space for her research and, in return, she handles some of the OBGYN duties. Granted she's unpleasant but is also an excellent doctor."

"Excellent or not, I don't want her to be my doctor if there's any way I can avoid it. It's very awkward knowing that my baby doctor has a _history_ with the father of my baby, and from the sound of it, a future, too." Now she was getting her spirit back.

He was stunned, "What in the hell are you talking about? Yes, many years ago I was briefly engaged to Edith. She broke it off to go to Canada. That was the best thing that could have happened to me. I said she's an excellent doctor but she's also mercenary and extremely ambitious. Not attractive qualities. There's no 'future' for us. It's ridiculous for you to even think that. Now, tell me what they said about the scan."

Eyes bright with unshed tears, she reached for her handbag and pulled out the picture of the scan and carefully watched his face as he looked at their child for the first time. That was the Martin that she loved. Face it! She loved this difficult and maddening man. And he loved the baby. It showed in his expression.

"Edith said it's SGA and scheduled more tests for me. Martin, is our baby is trouble? I got all the technical information but no assurance about his health. Is he ok?" She asked, voice trembling.

He carefully studied the small picture of his living, breathing child. "Louisa, you can't base the well-being of a fetus on one scan. Some fetuses…"

She interrupted him, "Child Martin. Not fetus. That's our child!"

He continued, "Yes, yes, child. Some children are small through-out the gestational period. Some have growth spurts. I've done extensive studying about pregnancies and feel confident telling you that our baby is fine. Better now?"

"Yes, but all the tests. If it's fine why does she think I need all those tests?" She asked, still worried.

"It's just a precaution. You shouldn't worry too much about them. Haven't you heard about babies that weigh over a stone and then some that weigh less than six kilograms? There's a wide range of 'correct measurements'. She's being thorough. That's all." He paused, expecting another rejection, "Do you want me to go with you for the tests? I know they've been explained to you but…"

"Yes, yes I would. But you said extensive studying. Why? Because of her?" she asked with more than a tinge of pettishness.

"You're pregnant. Naturally I've been studying it. Why would you think it has anything to do with her?" His answer was matter of fact.

He checked her vitals again and, very relieved, told her, "You pulse is fine as is your blood pressure. How's the headache? I can give you some paracetamol if you want. Here, you can sit up now. Would you like some tea?"

She was lost in her memories. This was how it was between them for that brief period. Why oh why did they let it go? She told him he wouldn't make her happy. Well, she certainly wasn't happy without him.

"Yes, tea would be very good. I haven't had anything to eat since breakfast. I'll walk to the shops and get something simple for supper. Would you like to join me?" She spoke without looking at him, expecting a firm no. It was past his 6:00 deadline for eating.

"Yes, I would but you're to stay on the sofa and rest. He went to the refrigerator to pour her a glass of milk and there was none. "You're out of milk. Drink this water while I'm gone. You're probably a little dehydrated. I'll buy some milk. Better for you than tea. I can prepare something for our supper easily enough. What would you like to have?"

The 'our supper' pleased her. Knowing his preferences, she replied, "Fish sounds good. Whatever kind you want to cook. You always prepare the best vegetables so, if you don't mind, make that decision, too."

"Yes, I'll be back in half an hour. Don't do anything to exert yourself." And he left.

She had to wee again so made her way up the stairs, taking the water with her. It was good and cold. At least her legs were getting exercise with her having to go every five minutes! There were still the elephants in the room – London and Edith. Some food in her stomach would help. She felt as weak as the proverbial kitten.

He came back carrying the groceries and she wasn't there! "Louisa! Where are you? I told you to rest! Are you _trying_ to injure yourself for god's sake?"

She felt like yelling back at him but no more stress tonight. There had already been enough. "I'll be there in a minute. Just had to wee. That's all."

He was looking for cooking utensils when she came down the stairs. "This kitchen is ridiculous! Don't you have a grilling pan?"

"Stop fussing! No, I don't have many cooking utensils yet. I rented my house furnished so left all of mine there. Can't you make do?" She asked as she sat down at the small kitchen table.

"Of course I can _make do_ but I shouldn't have to! This whole situation is absurd! You've barely enough room to walk around. How are you going to live with a baby in this space?" He asked as he looked for seasonings and imagining her living in the surgery again.

She waited in silence for him to look at her. She had questions too.

When she didn't answer him, he stopped and looked at her. "Well, aren't you going to answer me?"

"Martin, when were going to tell me that you're moving back to London? And aren't you going to escort Edith to some symposium in a couple of days – for an overnight trip? Those facts surely have some bearing on our conversations." Keep calm she told herself.

"How did you find out about that? Never mind. Somehow you heard it from Edith. First of all, I've been wanting to tell you about London ever since you got back but we haven't exactly been getting along. Second, yes, I'm going to the symposium and Edith will be there as she's the speaker. That doesn't mean that I'm _escorting_ her and I certainly won't spend the night with her. Some people from Imperial will be there and we have things to discuss. That's all."

"I'm thrilled that you can go back to surgery and to your life in London. You told me once that it was the only thing you were ever good at. A ludicrous statement by the way! Congratulations." She said sincerely.

"We'll talk more after you've eaten. You're getting pale again. I'll have it ready in fifteen minutes. Here, drink a glass of milk while you wait." He said as he poured the milk and moved around a small and unfamiliar kitchen as if he cooked there every day – sure and precise movements.

After they finished the meal of low sodium and optimum nutrition, she felt much better and insisted that she clear up the dishes. He grunted and, since he could move more quickly than she could with her belly getting in the way, said, "No you won't. I'm perfectly capable of doing this. Why don't you take a shower while I'm here? We still have a few things to discuss and then you have an early night. You've had a stressful day."

She nodded and went back up the stairs. Just as well, she had to wee again. When she came out of the lavatory dressed in a warm flannel gown that stretched across her stomach showing her 'outie', he was there in her bedroom hanging up her dress and straightening the room. "Let's get your laundry together and I'll do it before I leave. Is there anything else you need tonight? What's the matter? Do you feel ill again?" He asked as he felt her forehead.

"No, it's the baby. I think we're going to have a gymnast on our hands!" and she moved his hand to her belly. He stood without moving while he felt for the first time the baby actually move. He had the same expression on his face as when he saw the scan.

"Ah hem. Well, that's perfectly natural and reassuring. The movements are strong." Said the doctor but the father kept his hand against the spot until the movement stopped. "Are you ready to retire? I think you should."

"You said we still had a few things to discuss so will you be alright up here while we talk? There's no chair for you. I'm feeling much better and don't mind if you want to go back downstairs." She offered.

"Are you sure? You have to work tomorrow even though you shouldn't. Alright, alright, don't look at me like that! I'll take these clothes with me and put them in your washing machine. Be careful on the stairs. I'll go first." He cautioned.

He put the clothes in the machine, found a basket of unfolded ones and brought them into the lounge area to fold. "He's certainly helpful to have around!" She thought. He's almost bustling!

He was in his element – being with her, caring for her and the baby. And no fighting. If it could always be this way! Returning to London was less and less desirable.

"Now, I've been meaning to speak to you about finances. Here's a check for $$$ for emergencies and I'll arrange to have a monthly draft put in your account and you're still listed as my beneficiary. You and the baby won't want for anything. Understand?" He asked as he neatly folded her ugly maternity panties and huge bras.

"Yes, of course. Neither of us expected this but I never worried that you wouldn't be financially generous. You're a good man Martin. But he won't know you or you him and that's sad for you both." She said quietly.

"What do you mean? Of course he'll know me. I don't think I'll be a particularly good father but he'll know me!" He said indignantly.

"Think about it Martin. When you go back to London, to the life you love and the people you know there, this place will be like a bad dream. You've hated everything about it since the first day you moved in. And, Edith will be waiting. Your visits will be more and more infrequent and then they'll stop all together. It's just human nature." She stated with sad certainty.

Still indignant, he said, "Of course I'll come to visit both of you! Every weekend if possible. And I wish you'd get Edith out of your head! We're colleagues. That's all! And I don't hate everything here. There's Aunty Joan…and you."

She shrugged her shoulders in disbelief and asked, "When do you think you'll leave? Is your phobia cured?"

"I plan on waiting till after the baby is born. And I'm still working on the phobia. It's coming on very well. And, I have to give Edith some credit for my success. She recommended my therapist and brought me bags of blood to deal with." He sounded confident and she loved him enough to really be pleased in spite of him mentioning Edith.

They sat silently, both trying to think of another reason for him to stay. "There's something else, I'd like to meet the mid-wife and take you to Wadebridge to register. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, please. I'd like your opinion of her qualifications and for you to meet the doctor." And there was silence again.

"Well, are you ready to go to bed now? Alright, I'll come up with you." He so badly wanted to stay just a little longer. All night actually.

"I have to wee first. I feel like a leaky water balloon!" She grumbled.

He turned down her blankets and made sure she was comfortable and well covered. Now there really wasn't another reason to stay. He had told her on that awful day that she wouldn't make him happy. What a fool he had been! Roger Fenn told him that he was a miserable buggar. Well, without her, he was a _thoroughly_ miserable buggar!

He looked down at the picture she made and thought how many times he had imagined her just like this. Sable hair spread across the pillow, eyes and lips soft and inviting. God! She's beautiful! The words 'I love you' trembled on his lips but he couldn't say them. They had both agreed that they would be miserable together and he was convinced that she still believed it. "You're so very beautiful, Louisa. Call me at once if there's anything you need and I'll be here. Sleep well." And he walked quickly out of the room before he embarrassed them both by begging to be allowed to stay.

She whispered good night to his retreating back, wanting horribly for him to stay. But no, he had made it clear that it was over. And, there was still Edith lurking in the back of her mind.

As usual, Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures. I have no association with them, just enjoy playing with the characters. I know the show had to keep the will they/won't they going, but I'm glad it's over and that they're happy together. I just shortened the process. When I watch an episode, sometimes I wonder "what if" and the story just comes. Hope our two lovebirds don't sound too much like teenagers.

PS - I was fortunate enough to stay home with our two sons until they started school and wish the same for every other Mother who wants the same thing.

Doc and Louisa - a Reckoning Part two

The next day went normally for them both. She at the school and he at the surgery. People noticed that she was quieter and looked sad. A bright spot was when he called her just to make sure that she was ok and not overdoing it. Regrets are a terrible thing and she realized that if only she had always understood that his actions were out of concern for her wellbeing and not to dominate or criticize her, they would still be together.

"Tosser!" was flung at the Doc by many of the villagers and several "How could you!"s. He didn't notice any of it. His legendary scowl wasn't quite as ferocious as it had been for the past few weeks. Pauline kept her fingers crossed that his relationship with Louisa was on the mend. Penhale, looking anxious, followed him around and made typically inane comments just trying to spark a conversation. He had been watching Doc and hated to see him unhappy. Silly he could be but nobody could accuse him of being uncaring – not PC Penhale! One confusing thing happened to Martin – Al sent a text apologizing for calling him a tosser. When had he done that? Most unlike the congenial Al.

By unspoken agreement, he came to her cottage every night and prepared supper for them. They spent comfortable evenings together with him reading either the latest medical journal or lancet and she either marking papers or reading one of the multitude of parenting books she had gotten from the library. He would join her in studying the books. Some he tossed aside dismissively and said, "American!", others he derided as border line nonsense. A few he read closely, nodding his head in agreement with the author. She paid particular attention to those. They did make a lot of sense but she argued that some of the others had some valid points. It felt good that they could freely discuss things – trivial or important- without him falling into his lecturing mode and her not getting defensive. This easy, trusting relationship had been missing between them.

The night before he was to leave for the symposium, he rose to his feet and stood looking down at her. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing. It just feels odd to leave. I'll call you tomorrow just after lunch. Don't overdo while I'm gone. It's not safe for the baby." He said, clearly reluctant to leave.

She rose, saying, "I won't and you promise to be careful. I'll be waiting for your call." And she rose on tiptoe and softly kissed his lips. "Good night and safe journey."

He nodded and left, locking the door behind him.

He closed the surgery at twelve on Friday in anticipation of traveling to the symposium. He called Louisa to tell her he was leaving and promised to call her later to see if everything was ok. He had to be satisfied with voice mail. He just got to the edge of the moors when Pauline called him about an emergency at a farm that turned out to be not too far from his location. Bert had called it in and said that a man called Michael had fallen down the stairs and looked about to 'cork it'. He called Bert and told him, "I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't move him." He had already passed the turn off and, as he was turning the car around, Edith called.

"Ellingham? Are you on your way yet? There are several people attending who could be useful to us when you return to Imperial. You should mingle…"

He interrupted her with, "I have an emergency and can't talk now."

"But, Ellingham, these people are important! I don't want you to be late." And he hung up on her. Accustomed to his behavior, she said resignedly, "Oh Ellingham! How I've missed you."

He arrived at the farm to find a man lying at the foot of the stairs, burning up and barely conscious. He hadn't brought his bag with him so had nothing with which to care for the man. His wife, Julie, and Bert had covered him up. Bert introduced them and asked, "How'd you get here so quick? I just hung up about a minute ago."

"I was on my way to Truro for an appointment. He's burning up! Take this blanket away. Michael, it's Dr. Ellingham. Can you hear me?"

Michael mumbled an answer. "Bert, call an ambulance. Jane, do have a thermometer? Well, get it and bring me some ice. I have to try and lower his temperature. And some rubber gloves." He snorted in disgust when she handed him a jam thermometer and a pair of marigolds (yellow, kitchen rubber gloves).

"My name is Julie, not Jane, and Bert's gettin' the ice. Won't be a minute. Anythin' else?" she asked coyly. Was she _flirting_ with him? The woman's an idiot!

"Yes, do you have any petroleum jelly? No, how about some cooking oil? I have to lubricate this thermometer in order to insert into his rectum." He explained.

"Oh my god! Bert, Bert! He's gonna put that big thing up his bum! Should I stop him? Oh my love! Michael, brace yourself darlin'. This is gonna hurt!"

Bert handed him the oil, the thermometer was lubricated and inserted. Michael moaned but Martin couldn't tell if it was discomfort from the insertion of the oversized thermometer or from his sickness. "Thirty-nine. Jennifer, hold this ice against the back of his neck. It'll help cool him off. I'm going to wash my hands." That's when he saw the dead game hanging in the pantry. Two of them had discernable tire marks on them and he almost gagged at the odor from the badger. He went back to the hallway and stared at her in horrified disbelief, "Are you and your husband eating those animals?"

"Well, yeah. Can't let meat go to waste. Why?" She asked and looked bewildered at his question.

"Because it's dangerous you imbecile! Among other dangerous diseases, they carry Trichinosis. People infected with it present the same symptoms as Matthew here. I'm calling Health Services. They'll dispose of all that game properly. Bert, have you served any meat from here in your restaurant?" Martin asked, still fuming.

"No sir, I have not. There's no contaminated meat in any restaurant of mine thank you very much! Why don't you go on to your appointment, Doc. I'll wait for the ambulance." Bert motioned that he would follow him out.

"Keep the ice on his forehead and the back of his neck until the ambulance gets here. And stay away from that meat!"

He left with Bert, saying. "Can you remember what to tell them? Wait, I'll write it down."

"Doc, they're goin' around to all the restaurants tellin'em that they got what you call 'exotic game'. I came here to check it out. Sure didn't know it was road kill! I'll spread the word. Don't want customers gettin' sick. You go on, now. I won't leave till ever thing's ok."

Martin nodded and he ran to his car, still marveling at the ignorance of some of his patients. Road kill! Good god!

He arrived at the hotel, got his room key and when he put it in the lock, Edith opened the door. "Hello, Ellingham. I was afraid you'd be late. You know, there are these things called ambulances and they're used for emergencies. It might be useful for you to know that." She said, mocking him.

"That's good to know. How did you get a key to my room?" He asked as he rolled his suitcase through the door.

"It's _our_ room. Why the face? We've slept together before in case you've forgotten. I assure you that everything's still the same, just not as springy." She was smiling and trying to flirt. Not her strong suit.

He stopped just inside the door and looked at her measuringly. "I don't think so. I'll go and get my own room."

"First a blood phobia, now a fear of intimacy. I helped you conquer the first, I can help you with the second. Man up, Ellingham!" She said bracingly.

"Not wanting to be with you doesn't mean I have a fear of intimacy."

"I think it does. You're exhibiting symptoms…" she started to say.

He interrupted with, "It's a _choice_ , not a sympton. I have my reasons."

"I hope your _reason_ isn't that spikey woman from that little tin biscuit town that you impregnated. Good god, Ellingham! Surely, you're not going to let her trap you! She _let_ herself get pregnant and then chose to not get an abortion. She's a big girl. Just give her some money and walk away. Your future is in London now." That scornful expression on her face was repulsive. Walk away from his child? From his responsibilities? He had forgotten just how ruthless she could be. Chris and Carol certainly never approved of her as his fiancé. No wonder Louisa didn't want her as her doctor.

"None of this is any of your business. I'm going to get another room. Good night Edith." And he left.

She called after him, "The hotel is fully booked. You won't get a room so why don't you just leave your suitcase here?"

She was right, no rooms available. They were full of apologies but maybe he could book in another hotel close by. Yes, they would check for him. No, every decent hotel was fully booked. There were two conventions in town in addition to this symposium.

He asked, "Check and see if Dr. Robert Preston has checked in, please. He has? What's his room number? Seven fourteen? Thank you."

Robert answered the phone and agreed to meet him in the reception area in ten minutes. Just as he hung up Martin heard a scream followed by the sound of running feet and banging doors. He knew those sounds. Someone was hurt. He followed the commotion and made his way to the kitchen. A man was screaming and jumping around and holding his hand out in front of him, blood streaming from it.

"I've cut me bleedin' finger off! Somebody do somethin'! Help!" He screamed, obviously terrified.

Martin walked up, grabbed the hand and tried to wrap a clean towel around it. "What are you doin' you lunatic? I'm bleedin' to death!" He yelled and tried to wrench his hand away, spraying blood all over Martin's shirt front and face.

"I'm a doctor and I'm telling you to sit down and hold your hand up in the air. Here, you help him. Keep it up! The rest of you, help me find his finger. Hurry now, the surgeons may be able to reattach it." Martin ordered and he, too, searched for the missing finger.

A waiter held it up, "Found it!"

Martin grabbed a clean plate, filled it with ice and put the finger in the middle of it. "I need some cling film to cover it with. I can hear the ambulance. Tell them what happened and give this to them."

He went back to the reception to find Robert waiting for him.

"My word Martin! You've got blood all over your shirt and face! What happened? Were you the one who called that ambulance?" He asked.

Martin replied, barely acknowledging the blood, "An emergency in the kitchen. And no, one of the employees called them. If you'll give me a minute, I'll get cleaned up. I'd like to speak with you if you have time. It's the only reason I'm here."

Robert raised his eyebrows a in surprise at that statement. Edith had gotten a little ahead of herself. Good! Martin deserved better. He answered, "Certainly. I'll wait for you over there."

Martin was accustomed to dressing quickly and, in a short amount of time, he and Robert were ensconced in comfortable arm chairs.

"I'm glad to see you, Martin. We need to talk about your phobia and possible return to surgery. I assume that's what you want to speak to me about. How do you think it's going?" Robert asked.

Martin nodded and answered, "It's doing very well. I'm convinced that I can return to surgery and will do whatever necessary to prove it to you and the board. You'll want to speak with my therapist. Here's his card. He'll tell you the same thing."

"That's great news! We've certainly missed your talents and skill. I'll arrange a meeting with the board and be in touch very soon." Robert answered enthusiastically.

"There's something else. I don't want to go back to London. I prefer the hospital here in Truro. Their surgical department is somewhat lacking." He said.

Robert was pleased but puzzled with this request. "You're correct. Truro can certainly use your help. They're already short staffed and Pitts is leaving at the end of next week. He was one of your pupils, yes? Good surgeon but constant complaints from personnel. Can't keep his hands to himself."

"That sounds like Pitts. Total arse." Martin replied.

"But I have to ask you why the change of heart? Are you afraid that a post at Imperial might to be too stressful for you? Truro has been just as busy on many occasions." Asked Robert.

Martin's first instinct was to tell him 'It's none of your business' but realized that the inquiry was justified and answered calmly and honestly. "It's a choice based on the needs of my family. I have a child on the way and know that the mother will be happier in Port Wenn where she's always lived. I already have a home there and want to live in it with her."

Robert studied his face and nodded in understanding. He had known this private and talented man for years, first as a pupil and later as a top rated surgeon, and knew that for him to be so open about his family life showed how important this request was to him. "I didn't know you're going to be a father. Congratulations! I never thought I'd hear that about you! Couldn't be happier for you. I have three myself and now, two grand-children as well. It's a wonderful thing. A good family life can mean a lot to people in our profession. I understand and will do my best to make your choice a reality.

They said their good byes, shook hands and Martin headed toward the front doors. Edith was waiting for him.

"Where do you think you're going? I've gone out on a big limb for you, vouched for you. Everyone has big plans for you so get your head screwed on straight and stop this ridiculous behavior! You're embarrassing yourself! Are you afraid you can't play with the big boys now?" She was astounded that he just walked past her. "Ellingham!"

He turned, with his classic 'you're an idiot!' look and said "Edith, first – mind your own business, second – shut up!" And left for home hearing her calling "It's my night Ellingham!"

It was early evening so Louisa shouldn't mind a quick call. "Louisa, it's Martin here. I'm on my way back from the symposium and wondered if I could stop by to see you. I should be there in under an hour. Have you eaten?"

"Yes, of course you can and no, I haven't eaten. There were parent-teacher meetings after school so I just got home myself. Have you? No? Would you like to eat with me? You would? Good. I'll buy some fish and fresh veggies. Do you want to cook or shall I?" Laughing softly, she agreed, "Yes, it's definitely better for you to do the cooking! Bye."

He parked at the surgery to pick up a package before making his way to her cottage. People were puzzled by his expression. There was no scowl. Oh, he's on his way to see Louiser. That explains it.

Unaware that he was being observed and discussed, he stopped at the Green Grocers and bought some fresh flowers. He remembered that she liked them on the table. "Good choice Doc! Louiser likes fresh flowers. I'm bettin' she ain't got a vase yet. Wanna buy one here?" The clerk said to his surprise. Why should he be surprised? If someone in the village burped, everyone else knew it and would probably join in!

She was watching and met him at the door. "Thank you, Martin! They're lovely! And the vase is perfect! That looks so nice! What are you doing back? I thought you were staying overnight?"

He kissed her hello and, unwilling to talk about Edith, he said, "I met Robert in reception and talked to him there so had no need to stay longer. And I wanted to see you. Are you feeling alright? You're not over-doing it at the school are you? I don't like it when you work so late."

"I'm fine! These meetings are important and I like doing them. I went to bed early last night, ate a good, nutritious breakfast and a light, healthy lunch. I feel very well. I'm really trying to follow your suggestions. If you look in the refrigerator, you'll see fresh fruit, low fat yogurt and everything else you want me to eat. Thank you for worrying about me." Crikey! This was so much nicer than bickering with him – especially when he acted as he did out of concern for her and their baby.

Taken-a-back by her answer and enormously pleased, he showed it by "Harumph." And started the preparations for their meal.

"I bought you an apron. Here, let me tie it." She made it snug around his waist. There wasn't room in her tiny kitchen for two people to work so she set the table and stayed out of his way. Again, his movements were smooth and quick.

"How did your talk with, Robert isn't it, go?" She asked while admiring his smooth motions.

"Yes, Robert Preston, my old tutor and head of the medical board. Good. I have some news for you but let's wait till after we eat to talk about it." He answered.

She just couldn't help herself and had to ask, "And Edith? Didn't you want to hear her speech?"

"No. I helped her write it so know what she'll say. She's actually going to try to tell a joke! Not a good idea. Are roasted sprouts satisfactory?" His answer was ok but his body language said that he didn't want to talk about Edith and that No was loud and clear. Must have been unpleasant.

She sat quietly, watching him work. He served their plates and poured his cup of hot, hot tea and her a glass of milk. She was too curious to talk about mundane matters and since he never did that anyway, they quickly finished their meal and cleared up the dishes together. It wasn't easy but she stood off to his side and dried the dishes as he handed them to her.

"I don't have much seating room here. I hope to buy some new furniture soon. Haven't you recognized this sofa? It was in the office at the farm." She asked as they sat down together.

He glanced at it indifferently and blurted out, "I asked Robert to transfer me to Truro instead of London. He agrees that their surgical department needs help. And, you may be interested to know that Pitts has been asked to leave his post. He evidently has trouble keeping his hands to himself."

If he had suggested that Aunt Joan have a sex change, she couldn't have been more surprised. She sat up straight and stared at him with her mouth open, then sputtered, "Truro? Are you sure? London has been your dream! Where you qualified and became famous! Why Truro?"

He smiled just a little at her expression, then answered, "In order. Yes, yes, yes, yes and because of you and the baby, obviously. Are you pleased?"

"Absolutely I'm pleased! Martin, this is wonderful! Are you going to live in Truro?" The last was asked with growing happiness. He was staying close to them! He would see them most weekends! And most of all, Edith would be in London! Or Timbuktu for all she cared.

"No, I'll commute. It's only an hour's drive. But I still have to convince the board that my phobia is cured. My therapist will help with that but I will still have to prove myself to everyone before I can perform surgery unsupervised. I feel confident that it will go smoothly. Just not completed yet." He explained.

"Will you still live in the surgery or move to some place smaller? Joan would love it if you moved in with her!" The last was said with laughter.

"We would drive each other mad! No, I plan on staying where I live now, unless you want to live somewhere else?" He asked hesitantly. God, what if she said no!

It took a few seconds for this to sink in. He could have sworn that at least five minutes went by before she answered. "Martin, I said that you wouldn't make me happy. Well I've been miserable without you, every day, all day. But, will I make you happy? You know that I can be messy, need to learn to cook and that I snore. The baby will need a lot of space and things. Dirty nappies, sleepless nights, spit up, toys and noise. Can you live with all those things?" She asked, seriously.

"I'm stubborn, difficult to talk to, rude and generally unfriendly. Can you live with those things? And, I've discovered that I, too, snore by waking myself up a few times with the sounds so strike that. Becoming accustomed to living with a child will be difficult but I can't envision _not_ living with it. And babies grow out of those stages you know. They don't last forever." He returned, completely serious.

"Are you asking me to marry you? I just want to be clear on that."

"Well, yes. What did you think I was doing? Before the baby is born preferably. So?" He was actually nervous about her answer! This blessed, difficult and wonderful man.

"Yes, I'll marry you. And, I'll live at the surgery or anywhere else with you. Even London." But she held her breath, hoping that he would still say Truro.

She wasn't disappointed. "No, I really think we'll be happier here. I want Aunty Joan to know our child and for it to know her. The happiest times of my childhood were spent on the farm with Uncle Phil and her. As to the surgery, if I'm no longer the village GP, we'll add two more large rooms to our living space."

"Oh Martin! I do so love you!" and she scooted close to him. It was difficult for them to embrace but needs must and they worked it out.

"Here, put this back where it belongs." And he handed her the engagement ring again just as he had the first time. She happily put it on and he shoved it in place. "This time it stays!" she said firmly.

They called Joan, Martin not wanting to take the chance that she would hear from the mailman again about their re-engagement. Needless to say, she couldn't have been happier for them.

The next day was Saturday so a good time for her to move back to the surgery. It seemed the way there was filled with well-wishers yelling congratulations and offering to help. Martin wanted to go by them as fast as possible but kept a sedate pace for Louisa's sake, scowl firmly in place.

That night, back in their bed, he held her close, relieved that she was happy and with him again. His hand rested on her stomach and he went to sleep feeling their baby move. He felt that emotion that was rare for him - contentment.

They met with the Midwife and Louisa formed an immediate bond with her. Martin had already checked out her history and found it to be more than satisfactory. She held birthing classes and Louisa had a private and proud giggle at how seriously Martin was taking his duties. He couldn't help but try to instruct her about the proper ways for her to perform her job. When she suggested that he let her sit in on his consultations so that she could instruct him, he snorted but thereafter kept his comments to himself – for the most part anyway. He put her phone number on speed dial.

The doctors in Wadebridge concurred with Martin's assessment of the scan and the rest of the tests were all positive. Louisa disliked Edith even more. Excellent doctor my active bladder!

They went shopping for nursery furniture in Truro and never had baby furniture gone thru such thorough inspections. The sales people were afraid that he would actually sit on the changing table to test its strength! They wrote up the receipt, promised quick delivery and almost pushed them out the door. At one time, Louisa would have blushed and apologized but no more. She just shrugged and was happy that their baby would have such well vetted furniture. They met Chris and Carol for dinner. "I knew you two would get back together! It's fate." Carol informed them. "When will we get to see the nursery?"

Louisa asked for just one rather large change in their future home: that she be allowed hire a painter and choose the new colors. He couldn't understand what was wrong with the green that was already there but would have agreed to any request she made so long as they were together again.

They planned a quiet wedding with just Aunt Joan, Aunt Ruth (whom Louisa had never met), Chris, Carole, Pauline, Al, Bert and Penhale. "We have to invite him Martin. He's always there for you whenever and where ever needed." Martin gave in and almost ran away when Joe gave every appearance of breaking into tears upon hearing the news. But the village had other ideas about the reception. Almost everyone chipped in to rent the hall. Large Restaurant organized the food and who would bring what dish. The Crab and Lobster furnished the cider and ale. Chippy Miller reminded everyone that the Doc only drank water and promised to bring a case. Chough's Baker promised a cake. Al would arrange for the dj. All in all, it looked to be a proper celebration for their Louiser. When Martin found out about it, his first thought was to refuse to attend but the look on Louisa's face when she heard about the generosity of her village convinced him to grin – make that grimace – and bear it. Louisa made a point of inviting Mrs. Tishell. She was an important member of the village and shouldn't be left out. She had no idea how deep the Chemist's obsession with Martin ran or how bitter she was about their marriage.

Robert kept Martin informed about his progress with the board and the Truro Hospital. Other members of the board and the head of Truro hospital also wanted to meet him face to face. They were all waiting for assurances from his therapist and then it was definite.

The wedding took place with the same vicar who was to marry them the first time. He started with, "Barely deloved" earning a scowl from Martin. Martin tried to act as a proper groom but was just too eager and impatient with all the 'claptrap' involved to let the vicar drone on. When it was time to kiss the bride, he looked around the room, clearly hesitant to do something that intimate in front of everyone. Then he looked at Louisa. Never had a kiss been so sweet.

He was determined for Louisa to enjoy the reception and was surprised to see the gifts from various people. There were gifts for the baby: teddy bears and outfits that brought forth the oddest sounds from the women. Martin was puzzled at this behavior but had the good sense to keep quiet. The rest of the men watched in amusement and the women continued to enjoy themselves. Aunt Joan brought a blue onsie and Martin marveled that a baby could be that small. The most precious gift to Louisa was a quilt that the village quilt guild made them. It had the jewel toned colors that she associated with Port Wenn – azure blue, soft lilac, aqua, meadow green and soft mauve. Even Martin admired the handiwork of the women and personally thanked them. It was a Martin thank you which consisted of "Yes" but it was enough. They all knew the Doc. They did the obligatory dance and his poor toes! Louisa never took dance lessons. Martin said that he could tell. Gallant Martin!

He had never thought that picking out names would be so difficult. They each wrote lists and looked up popular names. Pauline made suggestions and Joan jokingly said they should name it Phoan, a combination of her's and Phil's names and suitable for either sex. Finally, they decided to each pick their favorite name and those two would be it. For a son she picked James and he Henry – James Henry it was. For a girl, she picked Ruth and he picked Ann – Ruth Ann. Perfect!

She woke him up one night saying the labor pains had started. He had it all planned out, called the midwife and got all the necessary things together. She asked some questions, he barked out the answers and she was on her way.

Louisa paced the floor letting out nerve racking groans that came more and more frequently, especially after her water broke. Martin was sweating buckets and trying to comfort her. "Pant! You're supposed to pant!" This was hell! How could women go through this? Never again!

Sissy, the midwife knocked on the door and he rushed to answer it, almost pushing her into the consulting room.

"Alright, can you get on the table? I want to see how far you're dilated? Hum, this looks fine. Shouldn't be too much longer."

Louisa let out an, to Martin's ear, agonized and long groan and he lost all his good resolutions in a flash. He had seen horrible damage done to human bodies and never turned a hair but this was Louisa. "Did you bring the sterile underlay? Where's your bag? Come on woman, answer me! Do something about her pain! Did you _pay_ people to write your good reviews? What's taking you so long? Gawd!"

Sissy remained calm, used to this kind of panic among the prospective fathers, but Louisa didn't. "Mar-tin! Stop criticizing! Do you think it will make him come any faster? Do you seriously think you're helping? H-m-m?" Then she looked at his face and saw the terror there. "Martin, I need you to help me. Remember our classes and what you're supposed to do. I need you Martin. Please come here and let me brace myself against you." She said these words through gritted teeth, determined to try and reduce her moans. As anyone who's gone through child birth can tell you, she didn't succeed. But her pleas worked. He calmed down and did his part just fine.

An hour later, she was holding their son. "It's a boy! It's a boy! Oh, we have a son!"

Martin stood, looking at his family in awe, not sure what his next move should be. "Do you want to hold him?" Louisa asked.

"No, no. Better not. He's a baby and I'm not very good with babies. I might hurt him…or do something wrong."

"You could learn." She said, encouragingly.

He reached for that tiny little body with his huge hands and said, "Yes, I could." He held him up to look at the face of his son and his expression was all that Louisa could ever hope for – absolute adoration. "Hello, James Henry."

Sissy smiled at another happy family. She loved her job!

He handed him back and Louisa asked, "Isn't he beautiful?"

"His head's misshapen. The skull contracts and thus is allowed to pass through the birth canal." Said the doctor.

But she had seen the father's face. It was enough.

Sissy made sure that all was ok, packed up her things and left with the thanks of the new parents ringing in her ears. Even Martin thanked her.

Epilogue

They did have sleepless nights. Louisa worried. Martin acted like he knew everything but, as he had said, phases passed and after a short period of time, the baby slept better and woke less and less often for his bottle.

The letter came from the Truro Hospital. Pauline saw it and knew what it meant – the end of the best job she'd ever had. He opened it slowly and there it was, the offer of a post in the surgical department with an employment contract, employee handbook and all the other papers pertaining to the offer. He was to report to personnel in one week for orientation. He took it to Louisa and handed it to her without comment. She saw what it was and jumped up to hug him, laughing and crying a little from joy. They embraced for several moments before she pulled back and saw an actual smile on his face. A proud and happy smile! Chris already knew about the letter and called him to offer congratulations and to tell him that his replacement would start in two weeks. Wadebridge would cover his territory until then.

He offered Pauline a job as his secretary but with some stipulations – she would have to dress professionally and attend some classes. Was she willing to do that?

"Sure, Doc. I knew you'd need me and you won't know me when I dress _professionally_!"

"You'll also need reliable transportation. If needed, I'll co-sign your loan for an auto." He offered to her everlasting delight and gratitude. She bought a tiny two seater – good mileage, easy to park and very affordably priced. Martin nodded in approval.

Martin walked into the operating room and performed as if he'd just been on a week's vacation. Before long, he was head of the surgical department, supervising a team of registrars, teaching and writing again.

They lived at the old surgery for less than six months. The villagers just wouldn't accept that he wasn't their doc anymore. After being interrupted at least twice a week during supper by a villager suffering from some complaint, Martin exploded and called an agent. He wanted to move OUT of the village. Louisa convinced him to make it just out of easy walking distance. The new doctor bought their house and set up his surgery there, just like old times.

They found an expertly restored historic home with a good-sized garden for their children to play in and a magnificent view of the ocean. Yes, children. James Henry was two years old when they had Ruth Ann. Martin was enchanted with the small, spirited version of Louisa and she was definitely a daddy's girl. It was a good twenty minutes closer to Truro, too. Louisa didn't return to teaching until both children were old enough to enroll in Port Wenn Primary and never regretted the time she spent at home with them. Martin's fears that he wouldn't be a good father were completely unfounded. Being with the woman and two perfect children that he loved with all his being filled the unhappy void that he had born since he was a child. He was unfailingly kind, gentle and patient with them. Though still frequently rude to others and never suffered fools gladly, he and his family were happy.

The end


	2. Chapter 2

He closed the surgery at twelve on Friday in anticipation of traveling to the symposium. He called Louisa to tell her he was leaving and promised to call her later to see if everything was ok but had to be satisfied with voice mail. He just got to the edge of the moors when Pauline called him about an emergency at a farm that turned out to be not too far from his location. Bert had called it in and said that a man called Michael had fallen down the stairs and looked about to 'cork it'. He called Bert and told him, "Call an ambulance and I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't move him." He had already passed the turn off and, as he was turning the car around, Edith called.

"Ellingham? Are you on your way yet? There are several people attending who could be useful to us when you return to Imperial. You should mingle…"

He interrupted her with, "I have an emergency and can't talk now."

"But, Ellingham, these people are important! I don't want you to be late." And he hung up on her. Accustomed to his behavior, she said resignedly, "Oh Ellingham! How I've missed you."

He arrived at the farm to find a man lying at the foot of the stairs, burning up and barely conscious. He hadn't brought his bag with him so had nothing with which to care for the man. His wife, Julie, and Bert had covered him up. Bert introduced them and asked, "How'd you get here so quick? I just hung up about a minute ago."

"I was on my way to Truro for an appointment. He's burning up! Take this blanket away. Michael, it's Dr. Ellingham. Can you hear me?"

Michael mumbled an answer. "Bert, call an ambulance. Jane, do have a thermometer? Well, get it and bring me some ice. I have to try and lower his temperature. And some rubber gloves." He snorted in disgust when she handed him a jam thermometer and a pair of marigolds (yellow, kitchen rubber gloves).

"My name is Julie, not Jane, and Bert's gettin' the ice. Won't be a minute. Anythin' else?" she asked coyly. Was she _flirting_ with him? The woman's an idiot!

"Yes, do you have any petroleum jelly? No, how about some cooking oil? I have to lubricate this thermometer in order to insert into his rectum." He explained.

"Oh my god! Bert, Bert! He's gonna put that big thing up his bum! Should I stop him? Oh my love! Michael, brace yourself darlin'. This is gonna hurt!"

Bert handed him the oil, the thermometer was lubricated and inserted. Michael moaned but Martin couldn't tell if it was discomfort from the insertion of the oversized thermometer or from his sickness. "Thirty-nine. Jennifer, hold this ice against the back of his neck. It'll help cool him off. I'm going to wash my hands." That's when he saw dead game hanging in the pantry. Two of them had discernable tire marks on them and he almost gagged at the odor from the badger. He went back to the hallway and stared at her in horrified disbelief, "Are you and your husband eating those animals?"

"Well, yeah. Can't let meat go to waste. Why?" She asked and looked bewildered at his question.

"Because they're road kill and it's dangerous you imbecile! Among other dangerous diseases, they carry Trichinosis. People infected with it present the same symptoms as Matthew here. I'm calling Health Services. They'll dispose of all that game properly. Bert, have you served any meat from here in your restaurant?" Martin asked, still fuming.

"No sir, I have not. There's no contaminated meat in any restaurant of mine thank you very much! Why don't you go on to your appointment, Doc. I'll wait for the ambulance." Bert motioned that he would follow him out.

"Keep the ice on his forehead and the back of his neck until the ambulance gets here. And stay away from that meat!"

He left with Bert, saying. "Can you remember what to tell them? Wait, I'll write it down."

"Doc, they're goin' around to all the restaurants tellin'em that they got what you call 'exotic game'. I came here to check it out. Sure didn't know it was road kill! I'll spread the word. Don't want customers gettin' sick. You go on, now. I won't leave till ever thing's ok."

Martin nodded and he ran to his car, still marveling at the ignorance of some of his patients. Road kill! Good god!

He arrived at the hotel, got his room key and when he put it in the lock, Edith opened the door. "Hello, Ellingham. I was afraid you'd be late. You know, there are these things called ambulances and they're used for emergencies. Clever isn't it?" She said, mocking him.

"Good to know. How did you get a key to my room?" He asked as he rolled his suitcase through the door.

"It's _our_ room. In order to spend the night together, both people have to be in the same room, wouldn't you agree? Why the face? We've slept together before in case you've forgotten. I assure you that everything's still the same, just not as springy." She was smiling and confident. Why? Surely she didn't think…"

He backed out of the room and looked at her assessingly. "I don't think so. I'll go and get my own room."

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't want this? Don't you remember what it was like? We were good together and there's nothing to get in our way this time." She exclaimed.

"Yes, I remember. We've been working on your speech and my phobia. Those are the only things that I've been thinking of." He responded.

"First a blood phobia – _you_ a blood phobia! Of all people! And now a fear of intimacy. I helped you conquer the first, I can help you with the second. Just trust me." She said bracingly.

"Not wanting to be with you doesn't mean I have a fear of intimacy."

"I think it does. You're exhibiting symptoms…" she started to say.

He interrupted with, "It's a _choice_ , not a symptom. I have my reasons."

"I hope your _reason_ isn't that needy woman from that little tin biscuit town that you impregnated. Good god, Ellingham! Surely, you're not going to let her trap you! She _let_ herself get pregnant and then _chose_ to not get an abortion like I did. She's a big girl. Just give her some money and walk away. Your future's in London now." That scornful expression on her face was repulsive. Walk away from his child? From his responsibilities? He had forgotten just how ruthless she could be. No wonder Louisa didn't want her as her doctor.

"Are you saying that you aborted a baby? Our baby?" He asked quietly.

"Of course I did. I didn't want a baby to tie me down. To pay for a mistake the rest of my life. I could have trapped you, too, just like Louisa wants to do! You wouldn't have liked that." She continued scornfully. "You can't convince me that you want a baby!"

Bile rose in his throat and he felt such rage that he actually wanted to strike her. "You never asked me about the baby! And you don't know what I want or don't want now and, in any case, I don't have to convince you of anything. It's none of your business. I'm going to get another room." And he left.

She called after him, "The hotel is fully booked. You won't get a room so why don't you just leave your suitcase here? It'll save time in the long run."

He rushed to the lavatory and emptied his stomach. What if Louisa had made that choice? It was an unbearable thought. Washing his face with cold water and taking deep breaths calmed him down and he made his way down to the lobby.

She was right, no rooms available. They were full of apologies but maybe he could book in another hotel close by. Yes, they would check for him. No, every decent hotel was fully booked. There were two conventions in town in addition to this symposium.

He asked, "Check and see if Dr. Robert Preston has checked in, please. He has? What's his room number? Seven fourteen? Thank you."

Robert answered the phone and agreed to meet him in the reception area in ten minutes. Just as he hung up Martin heard a scream followed by the sound of running feet and banging doors. He knew those sounds. Someone was hurt. He followed the commotion and made his way to the kitchen. A man was screaming and jumping around and holding his hand out in front of him, blood streaming from it.

"I've cut me bleedin' finger off! Somebody do somethin'! Help!" He screamed, obviously terrified.

Martin walked up, grabbed the hand and tried to wrap a clean towel around it. "What're you doin' you lunatic? I'm bleedin' to death!" He yelled and tried to wrench his hand away, spraying blood all over Martin's shirt front and face.

"I'm a doctor and I'm telling you to stop acting like an idiot, sit down and hold your hand up in the air. Here, you help him. Keep it up! The rest of you, help me find his finger. Hurry now, the surgeons may be able to reattach it." Martin ordered and he, too, searched for the missing finger.

A waiter held it up, "Found it!"

Martin grabbed a clean plate, filled it with ice and put the finger in the middle of it. "I need some cling film to cover it with. I can hear the ambulance. Tell them what happened and give this to them."

He went back to the reception to find Robert waiting for him.

"My word Martin! You've got blood all over your clothing and face! What happened? Were you the one who called that ambulance?" He asked.

Martin replied, barely acknowledging the blood, "An emergency in the kitchen. And no, one of the employees called them. If you'll give me a minute, I'll get cleaned up. I'd like to speak with you if you have time. It's the only reason I'm here."

Robert raised his eyebrows a in surprise at that statement. Edith had gotten a little ahead of herself. Good! Martin deserved better. He answered, "Certainly. I'll wait for you over there."

Martin was accustomed to dressing quickly and, in a short amount of time, he and Robert were ensconced in comfortable arm chairs.

"I'm glad to see you, Martin. We need to talk about your phobia and possible return to surgery. I assume that's what you want to speak to me about. How do you think it's going?" Robert asked.

Martin nodded and answered, "It's going very well. I'm convinced that I can return to surgery and will do whatever necessary to prove it to you and the board. You'll want to speak with my therapist. Here's his card. He'll tell you the same thing."

"That's great news! We've certainly missed your talents and skill. I'll arrange a meeting with the board and be in touch very soon." Robert answered enthusiastically.

"There's something else. I don't want to go back to London. I prefer the hospital here in Truro. Their surgical department is somewhat lacking." He said.

Robert was pleased but puzzled with this request. "You're correct. Truro can certainly use your help. They're already short staffed and Pitts is leaving at the end of next week. He was one of your pupils, yes? Good surgeon but constant complaints from personnel. Can't keep his hands to himself."

"That sounds like Pitts. Total arse." Martin replied.

"But I have to ask you why the change of heart? Are you afraid that a post at Imperial might to be too stressful for you? I can assure you that Truro has been just as busy on many occasions." Asked Robert.

Martin's trusted this man whom he had known for years so felt comfortable telling him his reasons. Robert's inquiry was fully justified so he answered calmly and honestly. "It's a choice based on the needs of my family. I have a child on the way and know that the mother will be happier in Port Wenn where she's always lived. I already have a home there and want to live in it with them."

Robert studied his face and nodded in understanding. He had known this private and talented man for years, first as a pupil and later as a top-rated surgeon, and knew that for him to be so open about his family life showed how important this request was to him. "I didn't know you're going to be a father. Congratulations! I never thought I'd hear that about you! Couldn't be happier for you. I have three myself and two grand-children as well. It's a wonderful thing. A good family life can mean a lot to people in our profession. I understand and will do my best to make your choice a reality.

They said their good byes, shook hands and Martin headed toward the front doors. Edith was waiting for him.

"Where do you think you're going? I've gone out on a big limb for you, vouched for you. I'm the reason you have a chance to redeem yourself by returning to surgery. Stop this ridiculous behavior!"

Astounded that he walked past her, she followed like an annoying little dog snapping at his heels. "You're embarrassing yourself! And you're supposed to listen to my speech. Are you afraid you'll fail again, that your phobia will come back? Well, it will if you can't face up it." He went through the doors and she yelled, "Ellingham! Just wait till Robert hears about this!"

He turned, with his classic 'you're an idiot!' look and said "Edith, first – I told you to mind your own business, second – shut up! It's a pleasure to know that, with luck, I'll never see you again." And left for home.


End file.
